


Don't Ask Me!

by debwalsh, whatthefoucault



Category: Captain America (Comics), Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Bucky Barnes Feels, Captain America Reverse Big Bang 2018, Captain America: The First Avenger Compliant, Dancing Lessons, Dancing Steve Rogers, Declarations Of Love, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Gen, M/M, Not Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-World War II Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Protective Bucky Barnes, Steve and Bucky Dancing for the Win, Wedding Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-07-02
Packaged: 2019-05-31 14:34:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15121508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/debwalsh/pseuds/debwalsh, https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatthefoucault/pseuds/whatthefoucault
Summary: Five times Bucky tries to teach Steve to dance … and the one time he doesn’t have to.Inspired by the art of whatthefoucault for the 2018 Cap Reverse Big Bang.Special thanks toPineault_noirfor stellar in the nick of time betaing.Title and lyrics fromI Won’t Danceby Jerome Kern (music) and Dorothy Fields (lyrics)





	1. The Inspiration: Steve Rogers Still Can't Dance

**Author's Note:**

> So we were a late combination for the 2018 Cap Reverse Big Bang, because the original author dropped out late in the game. I have to say their loss is my gain, because whatthefoucault's art inspired me to write a story I hadn't expected, yet I love just the same.
> 
> But hey, you're here for art and story. So first - the art!

* * *

[](https://i.imgur.com/QkZhzWm.jpg)  


Steve Rogers Still Can't Dance by whatthefoucault - click on the image for full size

* * *


	2. Sister John Martin's Cotillion (1932)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Bucky tries to teach his pal Steve to dance, so he can woo a girl in their class who thinks that Steve is the bees' knees ...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've never written a five plus one story, and this seemed the perfect prompt. Let me know what you think!

* * *

* * *

_I won't dance, don't ask me_  
_I won't dance, don't ask me_  
_I won't dance, Madame, with you_  
_My heart won't let my feet do the things they should do_

“C’mon, Ste-e-e-eve!” Bucky cajoled, kicking out at Steve’s two left feet to try to nudge him into some semblance of form.  “Stop lookin’ at yer feet, ya mook.  Y’gotta look into her eyes, right?  Let ‘er know yer thinkin’ of her and her alone,” he said dreamily, holding his fists to his heart and staring meaningfully up at the ceiling where the stain from old man Hanratty’s overflowing bathtub looked more and more like the map of Africa on Dad’s big ole globe every day.

The air got knocked out of Bucky then when Steve landed a punch square on his shoulder, knocking him backward with a whoosh of air and a cackle of laughter.

“Don’t know why I gotta learn to dance, Buck.  No girl’s gonna wanna dance with _me_ ,” Steve shot back grumpily.

“Sister John Martin says _everybody’s_ gotta dance.  You included, buster.  ‘Sides, that Katie Eckert’s been givin’ you the eye for weeks.  You just don’t look when she’s lookin’ you up an’ down, pal.”

“She’s not eying me as a dance partner, jerk.  Her Dad’s the new undertaker since old Mr. Longenecker became one of his own damn customers.”

That gave Bucky pause, and he leaned forward, peering at Steve’s frowning face.  “So, whaddya think she’s doin’?”

“Sizin’ me up for a coffin, more like.  Ain’t gonna make much on me – I can fit in a little kid’s box, easy peasy.”

Bucky bit back a giggle, instead coughing out a sound that he thought was a manly guffaw.  Steve side-eyed him worriedly, but shook his head fondly as Bucky clapped him on the shoulder and chuckled merrily.  “That’s ‘cos yer growth spurt ain’t hit yet, Steve!  When it does, it’s gonna be like a freight train!  Yer gonna tower over all them crumbs, they’ll be splittin’ town in no time.  Now get them meat hooks up so’s I can show ya how ta woo yer dame – don’t want her to think yer a dead hoofer, now do ya?”

“Buck, we both know my two left feet got two left feet.  You’re aces, I’m all wet.  Katie’s gonna hafta be carried off the dance floor when I mash her feet with my plates!  Ain’t fair to her, and it ain’t fair to you – you got better things to do than try to teach a scrub like me.”

“Aw, Stevie, don’t talk about yerself that way, bub!  Katie knows what’s what, an’ so do I – yer a swell guy, a real pip.  So plant yer peepers on me, and let’s cut this rug, huh?”

&&&

Bucky had insisted on practicing every night of the week leading up to the “cotillion” as Sister John Martin referred to the school dance.  Every night, an hour or two or even three if he could coax it out of Steve and Steve’s Ma hadn’t come home from the hospital yet.  Steve’s back hurt, his feet hurt, heck, even his arms hurt, holding them up for so long to “lead” Bucky around the apartment for hours on end.

Steve had never looked forward to anything less than this dance, but at least he’d survived Bucky’s “lessons” long enough to make it here.  Another hour … and it was all over, and Steve could go back to being Bucky’s friend and not his pet project.  For a while, at least, until something else took Bucky’s fancy.

As Steve squirmed uncomfortably in his too-large shirt and too-tight tie, he reflected on just how lucky he was to have a friend like Bucky Barnes.   Steve was small for his age, plagued with health issues that made him look fragile, translucent, and ready to blow away in a stiff breeze.  But Bucky had always recognized the core of steel inside Steve, the determination that chose survival when illness threatened to take him, that chose justice and fairness when faced with bullies and grifters.  His looks and his attitude often made him a target for the hard guys in their neighborhood – guys who weren’t too smart, who had more muscle than brains, and more anger and resentment than kindness.

But Buck had had his back since the day they met, back when Bucky was in second grade and Steve was in first, and they’d been inseparable ever since.

Until now.  Now there was music and dancing.  And girls.  Lots of girls.  Bucky liked girls plenty, and plenty girls liked him.  He was naturally at ease in his own body, with an oddly sinuous grace for someone who’d been the neighborhood stickball champion three years running.  Where Steve just seemed to be holding steady at a big ball o’ nothing, Bucky was changing fast, growing taller, broader, more handsome.  His smile, once impish and endearing, was rapidly becoming sly and devilish.  Mothers were starting to look askance at the handsome boy with the rakish grin.  Like they knew he spelled trouble for their daughters' virtue.

And Steve knew there wasn’t an evil bone in Bucky’s body, but the way he held them close, the way he leaned in and whispered into the curve of their ears, touched fingers that danced up their spines even as they swayed slowly to the music … there was promise and threat in those gray-blue eyes, a devil glinting behind them, and maybe a little hint of heaven …

“Wall can hold its own self up, punk,” that cherished voice chuckled in his good ear.  Bucky was always careful to stand on the side where Steve could hear best, always made sure he was part of the conversation.  But now, it was like Steve was waking up to a conversation already in progress.

“Yeah, well maybe _somebody_ worked me so hard, _I_ need the wall to stay standin’,” Steve groused back.

“Don’t tell me a little dancin’ was too much fer ya, Steve m’boy.  Y’gotta have a little bit more in the tank – there’s Katie, and she’s been waitin,” he said, jutting his chin toward the petite blonde making doe eyes in their general direction.

“Pretty sure I come over, she ain’t gonna be happy.  That look’s for you, Buck.  Not me.”

“D’ya trust me, Steve?” Bucky asked suddenly, all merriment drained from his voice, replaced with solemnity.

“Course I do, I –“

“I would never steer you wrong.  I would never lie to you, either,” he enunciated clearly, borrowing from the elocution lessons that Sister John Martin insisted they all partake.

“Bucky –“

The lopsided grin that promised equal parts heaven and hell was back, and Bucky shoved against Steve’s back with his shoulder.  “Katie Eckert likes Steve Rogers, not Bucky Barnes.  So throw ‘er a bone, Rogers – go dance with her.”

&&&

Turned out Bucky was right.  Katie lit up like fireworks over the river when Steve came up to her.  She smiled broadly as he choked out his invitation to dance.  Her hands were cool and steady as she slipped them around Steve’s neck.  Steve’s hands were shaky and felt damp and hot as they fell to her tiny waist.  As small as he was, Katie was even tinier, and it was like they’d been made for each other, they fit together so perfectly.  Steve felt his chest swell at the look on her face, like she thought he somehow hung the moon and scattered the stars in the night sky.

As they shuffled in a vaguely circular motion, Steve felt his chest continue to swell, until it started to hurt, his lungs starting to catch fire, his vision going hazy as he realized he wasn’t getting enough air.

_Asthma attack._

His first dance with a girl who liked him, and Steve Rogers was having an asthma attack.

He stumbled forward, and the beaming smile on Katie’s face dimmed, her perfect golden eyebrows scrunching together in concern.

“Steve?” she asked softly.  “You okay?”

He opened his mouth, but words competed for air, and even the air lost.  Black spots sparked along the edge of his vision, and he felt his lips going numb.  He couldn’t claw the words out, couldn’t drag the air in.  He stumbled forward, starting to feel panic welling up in him, his eyes going wide, his color rising even as his lips were turning blue.

“Bucky!” Katie was shouting then, her hands slipping away from Steve’s neck and grabbing onto his shoulders.  “Bucky Barnes!”

And then Bucky was there, Bucky was holding onto him, his hands running up and down Steve’s arms, his back, one hand settling on his chest as he counted off the breaths, trying to force Steve to regain control of his lungs.  Bucky meant safety, meant somehow Steve could start breathing again.  Steve knew that, even as the air wouldn’t come, as the world seemed to grow dimmer with each painful and perilously unproductive gasp for air.

Bucky’s and Steve’s eyes met, and Steve could see the fear there, the recognition that this might be the time when Steve didn’t beat the odds.  Then there was determination, a fierce kind of cold anger, and Bucky pursed his lips and nodded once to himself, and to Steve.

An apologetic shrug toward Katie, a solemn nod toward Sister John Martin, and Bucky was practically carrying Steve out of the school auditorium, through the streets, and back to the apartment building where Steve lived. 

Next thing Steve knew, he was sitting over a steaming pan of eucalyptus-scented hot water, a towel over his head as he leaned with forearms on his knees, while Bucky paced anxiously back and forth.

“Gonna wear a hole in Ma’s carpet, jerk,” Steve croaked out after an eternity of praying for breath and listening to the anxious scuffing as Bucky worked himself up more and more.

And suddenly, silence.  Then Steve saw Bucky drop to his knees in front of him, the towel whipped back as Bucky leaned in and pressed his forehead to Steve’s.  “She’ll forgive me for _that_ ,” Bucky whispered hoarsely.  Bucky’s hand lifted and curled around the back of Steve’s neck, bringing their faces closer together.  Steve could feel the sigh that escaped Bucky then, like air being left out of a Macy’s balloon.  “She never woulda forgave me if somethin’ happened t’you, Stevie. _I_ never woulda –“ Bucky choked up at that, pulling Steve closer into a rough hug. 

Tentatively, Steve slid his own hands up Bucky’s back to return the hug, and the two boys sat there for who knew how long, just holding on.  The eucalyptus water was cooling by the time Bucky straightened and pulled away, dragging the back of his hand over his eyes. 

“Better?” he asked, all business and swagger again.

“Better.”

“You’d best take flowers tomorrow.  For Katie.”

“Pretty sure she had a better time without me, Buck.”

“Pretty sure you just about broke her heart tonight, pally.  She was worried sick, and don’t you think she wasn’t.”

“Never fun when somebody dies in your arms, jerk.”

“Don’t.  Don’t _even_ ,” Bucky demanded urgently.  “Ain’t funny.  _Never_ funny.  There isn’t a world I wanna live in where you _ain’t_ , punk,” Bucky insisted, grabbing Steve’s hands and holding them tightly between his palms.  The look in his eyes made something shiver deep inside Steve, a look that Steve couldn’t turn away from.  So he stared right back, feeling the world fall way for a moment, not like he was dying, but like he was coming to life in a brand new way.  Bucky closed his eyes and rested his forehead against Steve’s again, his breath ghosting across Steve’s lips, his cheeks, his chin. 

The world felt poised, waiting, on the brink of something … _wonderful_.

Steve had to remind himself to breathe, the urge to hold his breath was so great, the moment itself so important, and then …

Finally, Bucky whispered, ‘N’Katie feels the same, I know she does.  She’s a nice girl, good for ya, y’know?”

And somehow the moment had passed, and they were back on familiar ground. 

Bucky pulled back, shuffled to his feet, then picked up the pot and carried it back into the kitchen.  Steve heard the water slosh into the sink, followed by the clatter of the pot being placed in the drain rack.  By the time Bucky came back out to the living room, he’d reclaimed control, and stood there expectantly, eyebrow raised in challenge.

And Steve knew the next line in the script, and he took up his part with a nod.  “Yeah, yeah.  Okay.  Geeze, Buck.  I’m only 14 – no need to marry me off just yet, okay?  I’ll get her flowers, say I’m sorry I ruined her night –“

“Tell her she takes your breath away –“

“Layin’ it on a little thick, don’t y’think?  She knows I got asthma –“

“Everybody and their Aunt Sue knows you got asthma, pal.  But y’gotta butter her up, y’know?  Apply a little romance, a little sugar.  Make her feel like she’s the most important girl in the world.”

“But …”

“But?”

“I don’t want her to get the wrong idea, Buck.  Katie’s swell and all that, but … but I just don’t think she’s for me.”

Steve’s words hung heavy in the air between them, and Steve was braced to hear Bucky demand to know why he thought he was too good for Katie.  It wasn’t that.  It was because he thought Katie was too good for him.  And besides … he really didn’t know why, it just was.

“Okay,” Bucky said suddenly, his expression curiously blank.

“Okay?  You been ridin’ me about dancin’ with Katie Eckert for weeks.  Now it’s just … okay?”

“Yeah.  You know what you want, right, Steve?  Still you should take her flowers and let ‘er down easy.  She could make a nice friend even if you don’t want to court ‘er.”

“Yeah.  Friend.  I like that.  Friends don’t gotta dance.”

“Steve –“ Bucky admonished, exasperated.

Steve just grinned.  “Buck – don’t ask me …”

&&&

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed the first time Bucky tried to teach Steve to dance! Comments and kudos gratefully accepted!
> 
> FYI, Katie Eckert is based on my Aunt Katie. She and my Mom and their older sister were about 10 years younger than Steve and Bucky, but Aunt Katie was a real livewire - a joyous soul with an adventurous spirit and a devilish smile. This story has a number of people I knew who lived through this era, including my parents. Although I am more like Steve - I've never learned to dance with a partner - dance was something that the people of my parents' generation seemed to share. They've all passed on now (except for one aunt I don't talk to). It just seemed fitting to let them live again in this story.


	3. Spring Fling (1935)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The spring formal calls for drastic measures. 
> 
> Steve is gonna have to learn to dance this time.
> 
> And Bucky's right there to make it happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Steve. Bucky just keeps getting him right in the feels.
> 
> And Sarah Rogers is one proud Mama!

_Say, you know what? You're lovely_  
_You know what? You're lovely, but oh, what you do to me_  
_I'm like an ocean wave that's bumped on the shore_  
_I feel so absolutely stumped on the floor_

“Oh.  Let me see,” Sarah Rogers cooed, reaching out to grab her boy and snuggle him to death.  “You look so handsome, Steve!”

“Yeah, he cleans up all right,” Bucky agreed, frowning at the mess he’d managed to make with his tie.

“Better ‘n’some,” Steve sniffed, letting himself be pulled by his Ma so she could look at him up close.  She licked her thumb and used it to smoothe down Steve’s cowlick, then tugged his tie into the proper position.

“My beautiful boys, so grown up,” she whispered, a catch of tears in her voice as her smile grew wider.

“Me, maybe.  Buck’s gonna hang hisself on that tie,” Steve observed with a sly chuckle.

“Well, _you_ had help.  Don’t remember you tyin’ yer tie alone, Mr. Know-it-all.  Least you could do is help me get out of this rig –“

“Come here, James,” Sarah insisted, giving Steve one last hug and then waving Bucky over.  He shrugged, blushing, and stepped right into the circle of her arms.  Deftly, she undid the tie and had it back in ship shape almost faster than either boy could see.  “There.  You _both_ look so handsome.  You watch yourselves – I don’t want to hear about any trails of broken hearts, you two.”

Bucky looked over at Steve and grinned, but the grin was tinged with something Steve couldn’t identify.  Pity, maybe? Steve knew that Bucky knew that no girl was gonna give Steve the time of day, let alone let her heart get broken over him.  If Steve danced with anyone tonight, it would be because Bucky pulled in some marker or other.  Not because anyone wanted to hold onto Steve and sway to the music …

“Steve?” his Ma was saying, snapping her fingers in front of his face.  “You with me, baby?  I just asked when you boys are gonna be home.”

“Oh, um –“

“My Dad’s gonna pick us up at 9:30.  If that’s okay, Miz Sarah.”

“Think you can last that long?” Sarah looked at Steve with a mixture of teasing and concern.

“Think I can, sure,” Steve answered, puffing up a little.  He was seventeen, after all.  Far too many of the boys, and even some of the girls, in his class had dropped out to work, to help their families put food on the table.  He’d seen a marked decrease in classmates moving from eighth to ninth grade, and even more shifting past tenth.  His class was small enough the school combined his junior class with Bucky’s senior to host the spring formal.  The only reason either of them were still in school was their mothers – both Winifred Barnes and Sarah Rogers had insisted their sons would get proper educations, maybe even go to college, so they’d each live a life better than their parents.  The American dream in action.

Even if keeping Steve in school meant Ma worked double shifts and came home more tired each day than the last.

At least she’d arranged her schedule tonight so she could see the pair of them off for the dance.  Even if Steve didn’t really want to go, but Buck wouldn’t hear of him sitting this one out.

“How about a little turn around the dance floor for your old Ma, hmm?” Sarah was saying, her arms outspread and her smile hopeful.

As if he could deny her anything she asked.

&&&

Normally, they walked to school like everyone else, but Bucky’s Dad had recently gotten a new car thanks to his promotion, and George Barnes liked to show it off.  So after passing Sarah Rogers’ inspection and each having a dance with her in the Rogers’ living room, Steve and Bucky had made their ways back to the Barnes house and George’s shiny new Chevrolet.  He’d grinned broadly at them as they scrambled into the back set like proper gentlemen, and his grin never dimmed the few blocks to the school.

And it grew even wider when the boys hanging outside the school steps all were drawn to the vehicle like ants to sugar water.

“You boys have a good time.  I’ll meet you right here at 9:30.”

“You’re goin’ home, right, Dad?  You’re not just standing right here so the boys can make googly eyes at your car, right?”

“I make no promises, son.  Gotta give the public what it wants, you know?”

Bucky snorted and nodded.  “Sure thing, Dad.  C’mon, Steve.  I got itchy feet that need to be dancin’!”

&&&

Instead of making a direct path to the gymnasium, Bucky grabbed Steve by the wrist and drew him off to one of the side hallways, pressing his finger to his lips as he tugged Steve along behind him.

“Whatchya doin’, Buck, huh?  The dance is that way –“ Steve gestured toward the gym that was part of their regular routine, the brassy notes of a popular song drifting down the dark hallways.

“Gonna make sure you’re ready,” Bucky told him cryptically, but after another few moments, he seemed to have found the right place.

“Can you hear the music all right, Steve?” Bucky asked him as he came to a stop, his hand still curled around Steve’s wrist.

Steve cocked his head and listened.  Sure enough, the music sounded clear, the strident tone of the brass smoothed out by the distance.  The hallways and the lockers acted like natural amplifiers, extending the reach of the music.

Bucky breathed out something like a sigh.  “Okay,” he said, tugging Steve closer.  “You lead.”

“Wha –“

“I wanna make sure you can do this, Steve.  You’re gonna meet a girl in there and she’s gonna wanna dance with you.  You’re gonna fall in love tonight, I just know it.  I wanna make sure you’re ready.”

Fall in love.

Like he hadn’t already.

And.  _Oh._

Steve felt himself blushing, that funny shiver moving through him again.  He tamped down the odd thought and the odder sensation, and focused instead on the music.  Bucky was still talking, still walking him through the dance, and Steve had to wrench himself back to the here and now.  He shook his head to clear it, and protested, “Um, but you always –“

“Time for _you_ to lead.”  To accentuate his point, Bucky dropped Steve’s wrist and stepped in close, bringing both arms up to circle around Steve’s neck.  It was awkward, considering how much taller Bucky was to Steve.  And Steve was suddenly ten times more self-conscious about his body, about how close Bucky was, how heat rolled off him like the sun baking the sidewalk in August.  But Bucky stood there, expectant, demanded, so Steve gulped and nodded, placed his hands on Bucky’s hips as he shuffled to the left.

“You sure about this?”

Bucky drew a strangely unsteady breath of his own and nodded.  “Never been surer,” he answered in a whisper.

Steve smiled up at Bucky and nodded.  The expression on Bucky’s face made Steve’s heart stutter suddenly, his breath catch.  No, he wasn’t going to have another asthma attack just because he was dancing –

“C’mon, punk.  Do me proud,” Bucky said softly, his fingers pressing lightly against the back of Steve’s neck.

“Yeah, yeah.  Just don’t ask –“

“C’mon, dance with me,” Bucky grinned.

&&&

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So often we have stories where Sarah is wasting away and Steve is so sad. I loved writing this, where they can experience joy together, and Bucky is there to share it with them.


	4. Weddings and Warts (1940)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Bucky is giving his sister away in marriage, but the groom hasn't shown yet.
> 
> There's Steve to the rescue, finding a kindred spirit. But the day isn't over yet, and he's gonna be expected - you guessed it - to dance with the bride.
> 
> What's a fella to do?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are at the third time Bucky tries to teach Steve to dance! It's just not sticking, though. Does the fault lie with the student, or the teacher? Or is there an ulterior motive at work?

_When you dance you're charming and you're gentle_  
_Specially when you do the Continental_  
_But this feeling isn't purely mental_  
_For heaven rest us, I'm not asbestos_

Bucky tapped his foot nervously as he flicked the lace curtain back a couple of inches at the window, peering out into the street beyond.  He blew out a frustrated breath, and spun away from the window, double-timing it as he stalked across the little room, his dress shoes clacking loudly across the hardwood.

“Geeze, Buck!  What’s with you?  You look like you’re gonna blow a fuse –“

“That goddamned creep!  Where is he, huh?  It’s nearly noon.  Priest is waiting in the sacristy.  Becca’s all dolled up and ready to go.  Where’s the danged groom, huh?” Bucky demanded, fists balled at his sides as he nearly vibrated out of his rented tuxedo with rage.

Of course Bucky was distraught.  It’s not every day your older sister gets married.  And it’a definitely not every day you get tagged to walk her down the aisle when you’re only 23.

“Lemme go out and check, huh?  You stay here, try to cool down.  Don’t wanna walk Becks down the aisle all red – it’ll clash with her roses.”

“Yeah, yeah, funny guy.  But … you’d do that for me?”

For you, anything, Steve thought.  But he said out loud, “For Becks.  I always liked her best,” Steve added with a cheeky grin.

Bucky shook his head ruefully, then nodded.  “You’re a hoot, Rogers.  Regular Jimmy Durante.  Go check.  I’ll count from one to ten.”

“Make it twenty.  Be right back.”

&&&

Todd Proctor was sitting on the curb about twenty feet from the door to St. James, right there on Cathedral Place, his head hung between his knees as he gulped in air at a frightening pace.

Steve recognized the signs and dropped down to sit by Todd on the curb.  He sat watching the man carefully for a few moments before circling his shoulders with his arm, and starting the count.

Todd turned his head then, and nodded at Steve, and Steve just kept on counting, matching his own breaths to the count.  Gradually, Todd’s breathing quieted, leveled, until finally he started to uncoil himself and Steve withdrew his arm.

“Better?”

“Yeah, thanks.  You’re James’s friend, right?  Steve, is it?”  Steve nodded.  “How’d you know … ?”

“Asthma.  Got all kinda tricks to get it under control before it gets too bad.  Countin’ breaths helps if it’s early enough.  Helps when I get too edgy, too.  Calms me down.”

“Thanks.  So … Jimmy send you looking for me?”

“I volunteered.  Figured it’d be better if I found you.  In case any … well, beat downs were needed.”

“I’m not gonna skip on Becca.  I love her.  I want to spend the rest of my life with her.  I just … I got to the door, and all of a sudden …”

“It got to be too much.  Yeah.  Life does that sometimes.”

“Yeah, Becca told me.  About your Ma.  Your health.  She also said you’re the third Barnes brother.  Funny we haven’t met before.”

Steve barked out a laugh.  “Savin’ the best for last, maybe.”

“Yeah, maybe.  I guess I better go in and face the music.  James is gonna have a knuckle sandwich waiting for me, huh?”

“Nah.  Let me go ahead, smooth it over first.  He just wants what’s best for Becks.  And now that his Dad is gone … well, he feels it.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I get that.  Look, thanks, Steve,” Todd said, holding out his hand to shake Steve’s.  Steve smiled and took it, appreciating the fact that Todd didn’t hold back like so many people did when faced with his slight stature and sallow complexion.

“Be good to her, huh?  That’s all I ask.”

Todd smiled, nodding.  Steve turned to go back into the church.

&&&

“Oh, thank fuck.”

“Bucky!  You’re in a church!”

“God, I know, I’m sorry.  It’s just … I dunno what I’d do without you, Steve.  You always know … you always know the right thing to say or do.  I’d’a knocked his lights out and then Becks woulda hated me forever.  But you … you’re a good egg, Steve.  The best.” 

Bucky draped his arms across Steve’s shoulders then, and rested his forehead against Steve’s.  Steve naturally let his arms circle Bucky’s torso, brought him closer into a proper hug.  “Yeah, well, I gotta earn my way to bein’ Becca’s favorite, right?  If I wanna be a proper uncle,” Steve teased.

Bucky started humming then, a song that was popular on the radio.  He started to sway side to side a bit, arms still circling Steve’s shoulders, Steve’s arms still around his torso.  Steve started to tense up when he heard Bucky chuckle. 

“If you’re aiming for godfather status, Steve, you’re gonna have to step up.  And take Becca for a spin on her wedding day.  You’re gonna have to beat out me and Benji for the honor, so best make it good,” he added, lifting his face to grin at Steve.

“No.”

“Yeah.”

“Don’t say it, Buck.”

“You’re gonna have to –“

“Don’t ask me,” Steve repeated with a warning tone, but he was laughing.

“Dance.”

&&&

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, these boys!
> 
> Let me know what you think!


	5. USO and You (1942)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fourth time's the charm?
> 
> Well, this _is_ Steve and Bucky we're talking about ...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is one of my favorite chapters. Check out the end notes to find out why!

_And that's why I won't dance, why should I?_  
_I won't dance, how could I? I won't dance_  
_Merci beau coup, I know that music leads the way to romance_  
_So if I hold you in my arms I won't dance_

The hall was jumping.  Patriotic bunting artfully hid the dour faces of the Benevolent Society’s founders, and live music thumped through the floor, nearly drowned out by the sounds of couples stomping and dancing to the beat.  Tables laden with refreshments circled the room, and people clustered nearby like they were afraid to go too far from food.  This was the generation that had survived the Great Depression, after all.  They might enjoy some excess, but every one of them remembered when there wasn’t enough to go around.  Conversation was swallowed whole by the roar of many voices speaking, and the temperature in the space was edging toward August in Brooklyn, right here in the middle of October.

Steve would’ve turned back, gone home, if he hadn’t promised to meet a certain someone here.

A certain someone who was nowhere to be seen, even though Steve kept levering himself up on his tippy toes to peer into the crowds.

Surely if Bucky were here, he’d be able to see him, or at least the top of his head, as he danced away his cares and the dust of the camp.

Of course, odds were even he’d already found a girl, and was somewhere quieter copping a feel or maybe even a bit more.  He had, after all, been at basic training the past six months.  That was a lifetime in the love life of one Bucky Barnes.  
Steve wasn’t bitter, nosirree.  Bucky knew what he wanted and he went after it.  And more often than not, he got it.  Steve was proud of his friend, really he was.

That didn’t mean it didn’t sting when he got left out in the cold.  Or worse, guarding the door.

He was dragged out of his downward spiraling thoughts by a soft hand on his arm, and he found himself refocusing to see a pair of bright blue eyes, pin-curled blonde hair, and bright red smiling lips looking up at him.

 _Up?_ Wait, that just didn’t happen …

“Steve?”

“Katie!” And sure it was, Katie Eckert, looking flushed and laughing as her hand curled around Steve’s non-existent bicep. 

“I didn’t expect to see you here!  How ya been?  You’re lookin’ great!” she gushed at him, her smile genuine and pleased.  “And hey, where’s my manners?  This here’s Jimmy Walsh, he and his buddy Paul Truitt are up from Philly for the weekend.”

“Pleased to meet ya,” the tall, red-haired boy with freckles and ears big enough to give a New York hack a run for its money.  “You and Katie, you’re …?”

“Nah,” Katie interjected.  “Steve’s the one that got away.  And I’d still be pining away if my Bud hadn’t found me two years ago.”

“Bud.  Two years – you mean?”

She flashed her right hand, wiggling her fingers to show off the plain gold band.  “He’s a Merchant Marine, so he’s not home much, but yeah.  Mrs. Bud Freeman.  Roland Freeman, if you please.  That’s why he goes by Bud.  How about you, Steve?  Got a missus waiting at home?”

Jimmy was looking at Katie with a frown, and before Steve could answer, he interrupted her, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be a creep –“

“And you weren’t.  I was planning to introduce you to my cousin, Margaret.  That dark-haired dish over there by the punch bowl?  _She’s_ up from Philly, too.” Turning back to Steve, she said, “We’ll have to catch up soon, Steve, huh?  Lemme just do my Cupid thing here and introduce these lovebirds, and you can give me that dance you’ve been owing me, huh?  Oh, and hey look – another Jimmy!” she added, nodding toward a spot over Steve’s shoulder.

“Huh?”

“He still goes by Bucky?  Hey, Barnes,” she waved, not waiting for Bucky to respond before she shepherded the red-haired boy to meet her cousin.

“Hey, punk,” Bucky greeted with a fond smile, draping his arm across the back of Steve’s shoulders.

Steve gave himself a moment to squeeze in against Bucky’s ribs, hard now with muscle and looking spiffy in his dress uniform.

“Hey, jerk,” he answered back with a smile just as fond.  Then he let him go and stepped away so they could face each other.

“Wazzat Katie Eckert you were just talkin’ to?”

“Katie Freeman now,” Steve corrected.  “Husband’s in the Merchant Marine.  Said she still wants to dance with me.”

“Course she does.  She carried a torch for you for years, you just wouldn’t see it.”

“Pretty sure that torch was all in your head.  So, you’re home for good, huh?”

“Until I get called up.  Got some time to get things in order, spend some time with Ma.  Keep your sorry ass outta trouble for a while.”

“Where you dossing down, your Ma’s?”

“Was hoping you might still have some space.  You didn’t rent out my room, didja?”

Steve shook his head.  It would’ve helped, getting a roommate to replace Bucky, but he didn’t have the heart to.  Instead, he’d made a deal with the landlord to pick up some work around the building in exchange for keeping his rent low, just in case Bucky wanted to come back when he finished basic.

“Great.  I, uh, let myself in and left my duffle there, hoping you’d say yes.”

“And what if I’d rented it out?”

“Woulda arm wrestled the guy for dibs, o’course.  Now, where’s the bar at this shindig, huh?  Basic makes a man thirsty!”

&&&

Steve had managed to dodge Katie’s pleas for a dance all evening, much to Bucky’s amusement.  But when Katie left the dance with her new pal Jimmy and his friend Paul, Steve realized they’d forgotten someone important – Margaret, the visiting cousin.  It didn’t take long for Steve to work his way through the crowd to the young woman, who’d started to look uncomfortable and nervous.

“You’re Katie Eckert’s cousin, right?”

“Freeman now, but yeah,” she agreed, hugging herself and darting glances toward the door.  She was a little taller than Katie, maybe a bit over 5 feet, and with her sensible heels, just a little taller than Steve.  She was pretty, with dark hair and striking blue eyes, high cheekbones, and smooth olive skin.

“Katie and I went to school together.  She forget you were here?”

“Katie can be like that.  She wanted to ride in Jimmy’s rumble seat.  I don’t think they went back to Pennsylvania, but …”

“But?”

“But I don’t know how to get back to Katie’s apartment,” she admitted with a small shrug.  “I’m only here for the weekend, came up yesterday and I go home to Ambler Monday morning.”

“Ah.  Well.  Good thing Katie’s got old friends, huh?  Buck and me, we can escort you.”

“Buck?”

Steve glanced over his shoulder and pointed his thumb to Bucky, who was grinning wildly as he danced an energetic Lindy Hop with an equally smiling young woman.  Steve caught Bucky’s eye, and he nodded, but didn’t stop dancing.

“He’s a serviceman.”

“Just got home from basic.  Bucky Barnes.  My best friend.  Do you have Katie’s address?”

Margaret nodded shyly.

“Well, Bucky and me, we’re Brooklyn bred – Bucky was born in Indiana, but no one holds that against him – and we’d be honored to see you home.”

“You’re sure it’s no trouble –“

“We’ll make sure you get home safe, I promise.”

&&&

Later that evening, they delivered Margaret to Katie’s home, where they found Katie horrified at what she’d done.  Margaret had guessed that Katie had gotten so excited about riding in that rumble seat, she’d forgotten her younger cousin was even in town.  Now, Katie was a flurry of apologies and thank yous, hugs and tears as she didn’t know what to do first.  Margaret was a practical kind of girl, so she just bundled Katie up to usher her back up the stairs to Katie’s apartment, but not before she gave each of Bucky and Steve a kiss on the cheek.  She lingered with Steve’s kiss, drawing back to whisper thank you in his good ear.

Katie looked stunned and helpless, so Margaret just made sure to get her back inside with a small wave to the two boys.

“Well, that ended okay, huh?” Bucky asked, shoving his hands in his uniform pockets.

“Yeah.  Coulda gone worse.  Glad we could help.”

“That’s my Steve.  Knight in shining armor.”

“Yeah, yeah.  Pretty sure once she saw you, she forgot I was there.”

“Nah.  I saw how she looked at you when she kissed you.  You shoulda asked for her number.”

“She’s from Philly.  Some place called Ambler.  ‘Sides, I’ll be joining up soon.  I’m wearin’ ‘em down, I know it.” 

“Sure, pal,” Bucky agreed, his voice an odd kind of flat.  Steve knew that if he kept up that line of conversation, there was going to be a fight, and he didn’t want that.  Not after six months apart.  He just wanted to enjoy the fact that Bucky was home, even if it wasn’t going to last.

Instead, he changed the subject and asked, “Now you’re home, whaddya wanna do?”

“Tonight was good.  I needed to blow off steam.  Hooch was watered down, though.  Could do with a real drink.  McIlvane’s still open?”

“You just wanna see Elsie, I know it.”

“Elsie’s a great girl, but no.  No, I just wanna get a decent drink with my best guy, and catch up.  I’ve missed you, punk.”

“Yeah?  Well, I missed you, too, jerk.”

“And then when we get back to the apartment, we’re gonna work on your footwork .”

“What?  No.  No, I ain’t –“

“Sorry, can’t hear you – I’m thinkin’ about how I’m really gonna do it this time –“

“No, don’t you say it –“

“I’m gonna teach you to dance, Steve.”

&&&

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter is based on a real event. My Mom and Dad met at a USO dance, in 1945, I think. The way my Mom told the story, my Dad and his pal Paul Truitt kind of crashed this USO dance, and my Dad (the freckly redhead) tried to pick up my Aunt Katie, but he wasn't her type. She was actually single at the time, but she did later marry my Uncle Bud (ne Roland) Eckert, an ex-Merchant Marine. Anyway, Aunt Katie introduced my Dad to my Mom, and I gather some sparkage flew. But ... even though dumb ole Dad met Mom and was smitten, he wasn't smart enough to realize that giving Aunt Katie a ride home in the rumble seat, and leaving my Mom alone at the dance to walk home alone, was not the best way to start a relationship. But I guess I owe the USO a debt of gratitude - were it not for that dance - and my Mom's forgiving nature - I wouldn't be here today. :)


	6. Mistletoe and Moonlight (1944)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas of 1944 finds the Howling Commandos struggling behind enemy lines, just as the the lines extend further west in the Battle of the Bulge. Armed with intel that could change the course of the Battle but unable to deliver it, the team is facing their own mortality as supplies dwindle, along with hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You knew there had to be a chapter that wasn't all fluff and giggles. Even in the face of adversity, however, the human spirit can be awe-inspiring and indomitable.

_Oh, when you dance you're charming and you're gentle_  
_Specially when you do that Continental_  
_But this feeling isn't purely mental_  
_For heaven rest us, I'm not asbestos_

Germany in December was colder that Dante’s last circle of Hell.

Behind enemy lines in Germany in December was so cold, Dum Dum had announced his balls had retreated up his stomach, and they weren’t never coming back.

The Howlies had been stuck behind enemy lines for two days, and Morita had started to make noises about frostbite and losing limbs and other parts.

Steve knew that they needed to find somewhere to shelter, or his squad wasn’t going to make it.

&&&

Bucky’d been marking the days, counting off as December bled away in a frosty haze.  Their last mission had been completed on the tenth of December, an intelligence foray that had revealed key details of what the Germans called _Unternehmen Wacht am Rhein_ – Operation Watch on the Rhine.  They’d been trying to turn the information over to Allied hands ever since. 

They knew that the Germans were already pushing west into Belgium, France, and Luxembourg, and the offensive had caught the Allies off-guard.  The intelligence they carried would be invaluable, if only they could deliver it safely.

They’d been dodging German patrols for over a week.  They had avoided engagement simply because of the sheer number of Axis units passing through the forest en route to the big battle.  They could do hit and run, but only if they could run to a place of safety.  Otherwise they were just doing hit and die.

The inaction chafed on them all, but Steve – Captain Rogers – had felt it was more important that they get their intel to headquarters than they annoyed the Germans.  So they kept tacking southwest, hoping to circle around the worst of the fighting, and somehow connect with the Allied forces and turn over their intelligence.

Their efforts had been made more difficult by the fact that their radio had taken a tumble during their strategic retreat from acquiring the intelligence, and no matter what they’d tried, they couldn’t get Jim’s hands to warm up enough that he could do much with the damaged device.

Their supplies were running low, and everyone knew that Cap was holding back, consuming far less than he needed to to keep that supersoldier body at peak efficiency.  Bucky had tried a couple of times to slide his rations over to his old friend, and each of the Howlies had tried at some point, too, but Steve had just shaken his head and pointedly pushed the food back, murmuring that no one was doing without for his sake.

Dernier had starting darting ahead, leaving snares in his wake in hopes of catching a rabbit or two as they travelled.  Once or twice, he’d been lucky, and they’d shared a meal of roast rabbit, saving the bones to boil them down into a rough soup.  It helped, but they all knew that they needed rest – proper rest – heat, and some real food before they were all too exhausted to keep going.

They’d already slipped into their second week of torturously slow travel behind the German offensive, and they were all weighed down by the gnawing hunger, the cold wrapping around their bones, and the ever-present fear that the next encounter with the enemy might be their last.

“Think Hydra went west with the rest of the Krauts?” Dum Dum asked softly.

“Looks like, but I can’t believe Schmidt would abandon his crazy for the Fuhrer.  He hates Hitler as much as we do,” Bucky replied, just as quietly.

“There are no Hydra bases this far south and this close to France,” Steve interjected.  They often forgot his remarkable memory and the fact that the entire map of Hydra operations was seared into his brain.  Even Bucky, who’d known him all his life and had bitterly complained on more than one occasion how Steve just couldn’t forget anything, would forget what a tactical advantage that eidetic memory was.

Dernier responded with a rush of French, and Gabe listened intently before translating.  “So, maybe we can risk moving a little closer to the towns?  We might find shelter, might even find some food,” he repeated seriously.

“We’re gonna die out here if we don’t do something,” Bucky replied, giving voice to the fear that walked with all of them.

Steve nodded.  “We’re useless to the war effort if we drop dead on the trail.  Yeah, okay, let’s figure out where we are, what we’re close to.  Maybe if we can hole up somewhere, Jim’ll have a chance to fix the radio, too.”

“Yeah, let’s wish for our Christmas miracle,” Morita replied snappishly, and silence suddenly descended on the group.

It was Monty who spoke first.  “Christmas.”

“Five days from now,” Bucky agreed, his voice low and flat.

“Yeah, we need a Christmas miracle,” Steve agreed, nodding gravely.  “All right, let’s figure this out.”

&&&

It took three more days before they found themselves standing the remains of what was once a sprawling farm.  The house itself was in ruins, smashed and broken as though by a child having a tantrum.  Steve suspected it had been ruined by a departing German squad to ensure that it could not be used by anyone opposing the Reich.

But they hadn’t counted on the Howlies, or their determination, ingenuity, or desperate need.

It was Gabe who found the cold cellar hatch in the middle of the denuded field, and he stood there thumping on it with his boot for a full minute before he tried to open the hatch.  They climbed down into a large open space, stunned to find a vast network of still rooms containing baskets of still edible potatoes, beets, and other root vegetables.  Dum Dum nearly wept when he found the wine cellar just off the main room. 

Morita did weep when they found another space full of salted, smoked, and cured meats and fish.

Steve had had to dash away a tear when they found a hand-cranked battery powered radio, and Morita was able to connect with command, delivering their intelligence payload.

Bucky was grateful to find boxes of tallow candles, candleholders, and enough matches to last them until the last trumpet.

&&&

“How’d they miss all this?” Bucky demanded around a bulging mouth full of rehydrated dried beef.

“Who knows?  Maybe they drove the family out, and who the hell is going to share this secret if they’re being chucked out of their own property?” Steve replied, tearing off a strip of meat and tucking it in his mouth, moaning almost sinfully at the flavors bursting over his tongue.

“You’re gonna eat ‘til you bust, Rogers.  You gotta be running on less than empty by now,” Bucky told him quietly.

“I’m doing all right,” Steve protested.

“Yeah, and I’m Carmen Miranda.  C’mon, Steve, stop being the martyr.  We’re okay, we got plenty for everyone – there’s no reason for you to do without.  For once in your fucking life, don’t hold back.”

“Um, yeah, sure, okay,” Steve answered, uncomfortable with the ration of truth Bucky’d tossed his way.  The amount of food he needed to consume was embarrassingly high, especially considering the era in which they’d grown up.  It didn’t matter that that’s how much his body needed – he always felt like he was taking more than his fair share, taking food out of someone else’s mouth.  Nothing was going to change that, but even he had to admit that without proper nutrition, the US Army’s pet supersoldier functioned at less than optimal levels.

But he needed to change the subject, deflect to something less uncomfortable.  “Think we can pack some of this out of here with us?  We’re still not close enough to risk going west.  I estimate we’re still another week out from Command.”

“Trust me, we’ve all been hungry enough for so long, everyone of us’ll find a way.”

&&&

Snow started to fall in earnest early on Christmas Eve day, thick and cold and swirling.  Steve had declared they were settled in for a couple of days, to recharge and celebrate the season in some semblance of peace.  They’d been running a rota of one man up top in a makeshift camouflaged tent for three hours each, the rest of them below ground rotating through so no one got stuck in the cold too long.  When the snow started to get deep, Steve decided that they could pull the tent over the hatch to the cold cellar, and everyone could stay below ground where it was warm and relatively safe.

Morita had been working on their own radio, even as he’d pocketed the hand-cranked model they’d found there, and he’d finally got it to the point where it could receive, even though it still couldn’t broadcast. The whole team agreed he should tune it to the BBC World Service, and they sat in the candlelit space listening to the news counting down to Christmas.

Finally, Dernier had had enough listening to the British newscasters spreading propaganda across the airwaves.  He dug a battered concertina out of his pack and started to play over the radio announcer, and with a grin, Gabe glanced around the team, and shut the radio off.  Then he turned toward Monty, bowed deeply and held out his hand like a proper gentleman.

With a dry chuckle and a sardonic grin, Monty rose, took the proffered hand, and the two men began to dance to the tune that Dernier plied from his concertina.

&&&

The party was quiet and heartfelt as Gabe took over as musician with his harmonica, with Dum Dum singing along loudly and off-key.  Since they were all half-drunk from the wine he’d liberated from the wine cellar, no one really noticed except for Steve, and he was too relieved and happy to see his squad enjoying a well-earned rest, he didn’t care.

At some point, they’d all danced with each other, trading partners with a smile and a nod, then trading again.  Sometimes one or two of them would sit it out for a while, humming along, or singing in snatches of tune.

As the wine flowed, the silence grew, until there was just the sound of tired men humming along tunelessly with each other.

They’d set up blankets – another unexpected boon they’d found here – in different rooms, so each of the men could have the illusion of privacy.  They’d been sharing bedrolls for weeks, huddled close together to preserve warmth, so the idea of a private rest was an unbelievable luxury.  Steve couldn’t give his men much out here in the wilderness, but he’d be damned if they’d stint on anything they could take from this miraculous hole in the ground.

He and Bucky had been mindlessly swaying for a while now, and Steve suspected that the only thing keeping Bucky upright was the fact that his arms had locked around Steve’s neck.  So while the others hummed their Christmas carols, showtunes, and other ditties, he gradually maneuvered Buck toward the alcove where he’d set up his makeshift bed.

“You need to get some sleep, Buck,” Steve said softly, trying to disengage Bucky’s arms.

Bucky wasn’t ready to let go, and he wound himself tighter around Steve’s neck, pressing his chest against Steve’s, and burying his nose in the crook of Steve’s neck.  “’M’fine,” he murmured, rubbing his cheek against Steve’s shoulder.

Steve felt that curious shiver again, that odd sensation that bloomed inside so rarely he could convince himself it was imagination.  It only happened with Bucky, and only in very specific circumstances, and even then, not for a very long time.  He realized as Bucky’s body pressed close to his, his breath ghosting over the skin of his neck and collar bone, that this was one of those very specific circumstances.

“We get home, we should go dancing,” Bucky said softly, letting his hand drift down Steve’s chest to rest lightly in Steve’s hand.

“What’re we doin’ now, Buck?” Steve asked with a chuckle.

“We’re driftin’,” Bucky answered, then sniffled.

“Driftin’?”

“Not goin’ anywhere.  Just … driftin’.”

“Okay.  Where do y’wanna go dancin’?”

Bucky was silent for a long time, his body shifting back and forth, weight pushing back on one foot, then forward to the other.  He was silent so long, Steve wondered if maybe he’d fallen asleep after all. 

“Buck?”

“There’s … places.  Y’know.  Where we …”

“Yeah?”

“Where we could …”

And there it was, that moment when the future trembled on the brink of being born.  He remembered when it had happened when they were young, and the moment had been lost.  Never to return, he feared.

And yet, he felt it was here again.  He hoped it was here again.  Please, God, let it be here again.

“Where we could _what_ , Buck?” Steve asked softly, letting his fingers curl tighter around Bucky’s hand, and his other hand to smooth gently down Bucky’s back.

“Where we could dance together.  In the light.  Where people could see.”

Steve felt his breath stick in his chest, his stomach fluttering madly.  The shiver shifted, grew, heated up.  “And you would want that?”

“I always want that.”

“You know, I still don’t know how to dance.”

“Whaddya think we’re doin’ right now?”

“Not a proper dance.  You said we were driftin’.”

“It’s good enough for me.”

“I don’t guess I’m ever gonna learn how to dance if I don’t know already.  You been tryin’a teach me over 10 years, and it ain’t stuck.”

“Never wanted you to learn how to dance so’s you could cut the rug with a dame.  Always held my breath when you’d take one in your arms, worryin’ this might be the one.  I know it’s selfish, but teachin’ you’s the only way I got to dance with you.”

“Huh?”

“Ain’t you figured it out yet, punk?  I’m gone for you, always have been.  I’ve never been dizzy with a dame, pal.  Just an act.  It’s you.  It’s always been you.”

Steve swallowed painfully, his throat suddenly dry and tight.  “And these places,” he whispered hoarsely.  “They won’t mind?”

“Nah.”

“Not even if I don’t know how to dance?”

“I’ll show you how. Just be there.”

“We’ll have the band play somethin’ slow. I’d hate to step on your –“ Bucky cut him off by pressing his mouth against Steve’s, rough, abrupt, shocking … and somehow the most perfect kiss in the history of kisses.

“Hey, Cap, Sarge!  Got the radio working and we got Colonel Philips on the line!  He wants to talk to you!” came Morita’s excited voice.

Steve pulled back, staring into Bucky’s eyes, his heart breaking at the look of fear staring back at him.  He smiled gently and pressed his lips against Bucky’s once more, whispering, “I’m gonna need a rain check on that dance.  Wait for me.”

The joy and understanding that flared in Bucky’s eyes released the moment and let it be born, bright and shining, into the world.

&&&  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> o, this chapter needed lots of rethinking as I was writing it. Turns out, there was no holiday ceasefire during WWII, unlike the impromptu ceasefire that German and Allied troops celebrated in WWI. I did find an amazing article about a German family who inadvertently hosted a Christmas ceasefire in 1944 - just as the Battle of the Bulge was raging to the west. Here's the article - [1944 Christmas ceasefire](https://owlcation.com/humanities/About-World-War-2-A-Small-Christmas-Truce).
> 
> So, the article gave me some ideas, and then this chapter started to flow. I always knew that Steve and Bucky were going to dance in this one, right along with the other Howlies so no one thought anything of Cap and Sarge having a go, but I really like how this chapter ended up. And I deliberately echoed the conversation that Steve would have with Peggy when he downed the _Valkyrie_ months later. I liked the idea that the conversation happened first, on a happier note, with Bucky.


	7. The Right Partner (After the Ice)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And the one time Bucky didn't have to teach Steve to dance ...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so we come to an end. This was a fun experience for me, trying out a trope I hadn't played with, exploring historical context and placing real people - family - into the world inhabited by Steve and Bucky.
> 
> I love the Cap Reverse Big Bang - it's my favorite challenge. I'm sorry my first collaboration didn't work out, but I'm very happy with how this one came out. Sami is a fun person to work with, and Pineault_noir is a fun and quick beta. I could not have been more fortunate in my team here!

_And that's why I won't dance, why should I?_  
_I won't dance, how could I? I won't dance_  
_Merci beau coup, I know that music leads the way to romance_  
_So if I hold you in my arms I won't dance_

**2011 (After the Battle of New York)**

“Captain?”

Steve lifted his eyes to look at the person speaking to him, allowing himself a soft, noncommittal smile in response.  “Hmmm?”

“The General was wondering if you’d like to dance, sir.  She said she thought you looked awfully lonely over here by yourself,” the adjutant added kindly.

“Oh.  Oh, well, um.  Thank the General for me, won’t you?  I, um, I’m afraid that, well … I don’t dance.  I never actually learned, you see.”

“Oh, well I’m sure the General would be happy to –“

“Yes, I’m sure.  I’m just … I’m not comfortable with dancing, you see.”

“Ah.  I apologize for being forward, sir.  I’ll inform the General.  Perhaps you’d care to join her for a drink, then?  I know she’s quite anxious to hear more of your story.”

This time, Steve’s smile reached his eyes as he nodded.  “Sure.  That I can do.”

&&&

**2013**

“C’mon, Rogers!  It’s a party.  Surely they had parties back in the old days.  You know, when people drank and made merry.  Danced with lampshades on their heads.  Made inappropriate advances on each other and regretted it in the morning.  I’d like to see you get down and boogie,” Nat told him, waggling her eyebrows suggestively over her plastic cup of non-alcoholic punch. They were at a party to celebrate the engagement of one of their SHIELD compatriots, in a conference room commandeered for the purpose.  Crepe paper streamers wafted from the ceiling vents while a conference room table groaned under the load of drinks, food, and utensils.

Steve chuckled, raising his red cup of soda to his lips.  “You’re just looking for blackmail photos.”

Nat shrugged, glancing out toward the revelry.  “Don’t need ‘em.  There’s a whole collection of photos of you in 1940s booty shorts on display at the Smithsonian.  I might have had a hand in their selection.  For posterity, of course.  Your posterior for posterity.  Oh, come on – _I’ll_ dance with you –“

“Thanks, Nat.  I don’t dance.”

“There are miles of old newsreel footage that beg to differ –“

“That’s not dancing.  That’s … propaganda.”

“Oh.  Sorry.  I guess I didn’t realize –“

“Yeah.  No one does.”

&&&

**2014 (Before the Fall of SHIELD / Hydra Reveal)**

“Steve, darling.  How lovely to see you today.  Come to take an old lady dancing?”

“You know I still don’t know how to dance, Peg.”

“And I’m not in fit shape to teach you any longer.  Pity.  I imagine it would’ve been quite the thrill to be spun across the floor by you.”

“Because of the serum.”

“Because of your passion.  I’d’ve liked to have danced with you before the serum, you know.  Your passion for justice has always been quite remarkable.  I like a man with passion,” she added with a twinkle.

“You always could see me, Peg.”

“Damn right, I did.  And a good thing I did.  You’ve always had a worrying tendency to let that shield and that serum get in the way of living, darling.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that someday, you’re going to find the reason to stop fighting, to come home from war, and start living the life that Steve Rogers deserves.”

“Like you did?”

“Like I did.  I lived my life on my terms, I gave what I could, and I took what I needed.  And when it was time, I handed the reins over to the next generation and got on with life.”

He held her hand gently in his, tracing the fine veins under her translucent skin with his thumb.  “I’d like that.  But I just don’t see –“

“You have room in your heart for more than one person, you know, Steve.  I know you still miss him, but he wouldn’t want you give up on yourself.  He loved you too much to ever want that.”

Steve looked up at her, horror pinching his features as he looked into her kindly, laughing eyes.  “You knew?”

“Probably before you did.  I know it hasn’t been nearly as long for you as it has been for me.  But Steve … you have to know that there is someone out there who can love you the way you deserve.  Someone worthy of your love.  You can’t lose hope, my darling.”

&&&

**2016 (Just Prior to Ultron)**

“Yeah, there aren’t a lotta places that are like I remember them, so I was kinda excited to get this invitation.”

“What, an old dancehall?  But you keep telling people you don’t dance, Cap.”

“I don’t.  I never learned.  But I did go to a USO dance at this place, back in 1942.  This was my old neighborhood, Sam.  And the invite said that WWII veterans and members of the community were going to be there.  It’s a chance –“

“To revisit your past.  You think you might actually run into someone you knew back then?”

“Eh, there’s a chance.  Mostly, I think I’d like to talk to guys who fought in the same war I did.  I mean, I like your groups just fine, but the experience isn’t quite the same, is it?  I’d like to be able to talk with people who remember what it was like.  While I still can, y’know?”

“Yeah, I do.  I’m not sayin’ it’s a bad idea, either.  A big part of why group has therapeutic value is the shared experience.  And that thing that Stark is planning – maybe you could invite some of these guys to that.”

They entered the hall, and Steve found himself staring at the features that looked the same, editing out the changes in his mind to paint a picture of the smokey dancehall of his memories.  He smiled, realizing that it was more the same than it wasn’t.  And he could live with the differences just fine.

“Is that Steve Rogers?” came a clear voice, and he pivoted on his heel to find himself looking down – really down – into clear blue eyes that danced with mirth.  “About time you got back here to give me my damned dance, Steve!”

“Katie?”

“In the flesh.  A little older, but aren’t we all?  Well, except for you.  If I’d known you were going to age so gracefully, Steve, I woulda ignored Barnes and gone after you harder.”

“Wha – ignored Barnes?” Steve repeated, confused.

“Sure.  He spun me a yarn about how you were a prince of the Fae, and you were waiting to be called home to the Mound where your one true love was waiting for your return.  Or some such nonsense.  It was all very romantic, and I ate it up.  Course, I figured out later on it was just that he didn’t want to share you.  Bucky Barnes had it bad for you, even when we were kids,” she added with a wise tap to her nose.

“Katie …”

“I’m not passing judgment, Steve.  Everyone deserves to be loved like that at least once in their lifetime.  I had Bud, and I was happy.  Did you get your chance at happiness?  Before Bucky, you know?”

Sam had come back to join him by now, and Steve looked sideways at his friend.  They’d talked about a lot of things, and God knew he trusted Sam.  But the truth about Bucky’s sexuality, the brief moment of happiness they’d shared in that hole in the ground in Germany …

But Katie was looking at him expectantly, the glint of that joyous, energetic young girl shining through the aged skin, the white hair, the bent frame. 

Bucky had told her the truth about himself in telling her the lie.

He nodded slowly, feeling his chest warm and expand with the memory of Bucky’s lips on his, his body warm and present, pressed against him for just a moment before reality had inserted itself between them again.

“Yeah.  Yeah, I did, Katie.”

“Good.  I’m glad.  Now … how about that dance?”

“Sorry, Kate – I still don’t know how to dance.”

“All those times Barnes tried to teach you …?”

Steve shrugged.  “I don’t think the intent was for me to learn to dance without him.”

Sam was looking at him then, and Steve could tell that his quick mind had stitched together the edges of this conversation to put together a new understanding.

“You coulda said,” he told Steve softly.  “And now I think about it, I guess it was obvious all along.”

“Yeah,” was all Steve could say, before he had the sudden inspiration to volunteer Sam to dance with Katie while he went and chatted up some of his contemporaries.

&&&

“So.  Barnes,” Sam said quietly after they left the celebration.

“Yeah.  Barnes.”

“Well, a lot of stuff makes sense now.”

“You think so?”

“Guy fills your gut with lead and all you wanna do is track him down and cuddle him.  I don’t get why I didn’t see it before.  But yeah.  I get it now.”

“He was my best friend.  My first friend.  And then … I loved Peggy.  I still do.  But what I’ve always felt for Bucky … I don’t know how to explain it.  It’s so much a part of me, I didn’t even realize what it was for most of my life.”

“Your girl Katie said you were as oblivious as lamppost, but twice as pretty.  Even when you were a _wee lad_ ,” Sam said with a teasing falsetto.

“She was one of the few people I ever met who had to look up at me back then,” Steve chuckled.  “But Buck … he always made me feel like I was worth lookin’ up _to_.”

“Okay.”

“Hmm?”

“Okay.  I’ll find your boy.  You keep doing your superheroing, and I’ll do the grunt work.  We’ll bring him home.”

&&&

**June 2018**

“Y’know, I really appreciate you trusting me with your secret, Cap,” Happy Hogan announced from the drivers’ seat through the passthrough to the back seat where Steve sat idly scrolling through his phone.

“How many times do I have to ask you to call me Steve before you start doing it?” Steve asked, chuckling.

“Might as well save your breath because I’m never gonna do it, Cap,” Happy answered with a chuckle of his own.

“Even if I beg?”

“Even then, sir.  Unless you really don’t like being called Cap – geeze, I’m sorry, do you hate it?  I mean, the last thing I wanna do is offend you –“

“No, it’s fine.  I mean, I resigned my commission, and I don’t carry the shield anymore since Sam took over.  So technically …”

“You’re a retired US Army Captain, sir.  It counts.”

“Yeah, I guess it does.  I guess ‘Cap’ is better than ‘Mr. Rogers,’ huh?”

“I would never call you ‘Mr. Rogers,’ sir.  That’s a sacred name.”

“Yeah, the more I learn, the more I’m sorry I never got to meet Fred.  I think we would have been friends.”

“I think so, too.  Well, it’s coming up after this light.  You got everything?”

Steve checked around, opened his duffle one more time and touched each of the items he needed.  “Yep.  I’m good to go.  Have someone pick me up at 6:30?”

“I’ll be here, sir.  Um, what should I tell Sergeant Barnes if he asks?”

“I told him I was meeting with somebody to answer questions for their dissertation.  He won’t ask.”

“Cutting it close to the line, aren’t you?”

“There’s _always_ somebody looking for answers for their dissertation, Happy.  I answered the latest batch by Skype earlier today, but I guarantee you there will be a new batch by tomorrow.”

“You’re a popular subject.”

“There aren’t many contemporaneous witnesses to World War II left.  Buck doesn’t like answering those questions – it frustrates him if he can’t remember.  So I take them all on.”

“He’s lucky to have you, if you don’t mind me sayin’.”

“I’d take it all on for him if I could,” Steve amended fervently as he gathered up his stuff to get out of the limo.

“That’s what I mean,” Happy agreed solemnly as he nodded at Steve’s back.

&&&

The weather was perfect.  The sky arced blue and clear, a gentle, sweet-smelling breeze wafted through the park, and the gazebo and pavilion erected for the occasion were ablaze with color, redolent with scent.  A string quartet played softly, conversation ebbed and flowed quietly, and then there was a hush, the strings falling silent, voices stilled.

The wedding march began.

Steve Rogers stood under an arch of white and red roses, baby’s breath and brilliant green ferns, his face caught in a permanent beatific smile.  Everyone in their seats turned around, craning to see the other groom.  A very tiny, very old woman remained looking straight ahead, giving Steve two thumbs up and a great big wink.  His smile grew wider, even as his breath caught in his chest.

His chest swelled, and this time, it swelled with love and pride.

Bucky only had eyes for Steve.  He looked gorgeous in a bespoke velvet tuxedo with shimmering piping down the legs, a black bowtie shot with silver thread, and a pleated silk shirt.  Flanking him on either side were his great-grand-nephew, Jimmy, and his great-grand-niece, Becca, his sister Becca’s great-grandchildren.   Becca carried the ring for Bucky, while Jimmy held onto his metal hand resting in the crook of his elbow.  If Bucky was nervous about this day, he didn’t show it.  The smile that split his face was glowing, brilliant and loving.

It took forever and no time at all for the Jimmy and Becca to deliver Bucky to Steve’s waiting hands.

“Dearly beloved and all that crap,” Tony Stark announced from where he hovered over the festivities, resplendent in his latest Iron Man suit.

Steve and Bucky looked up at their officiant and grinned.

“Let’s get these boys hitched!”

&&&

The wedding of Steven Grant Rogers and James Buchanan Barnes straddled the line between traditional to wildly inventive and completely out there.  The guest list was an amalgam of surviving friends and family, enhanced and remarkable humans and mutants, normal folk who’d somehow found their ways into Steve and Bucky’s orbit, and a few dignitaries who would not be denied.  At the end of the day, the important thing was that they were well and truly married, legally, spiritually, lovingly.

The gift pavilion had overflow out to the parking lot.  And Stark had a couple of trucks on standby, too.  Everybody and their second cousin wanted to be able to say they gave a wedding present to Captain America and the Winter Soldier.  Even more wanted to be able to give to Steve and Bucky.

A privacy shield had been erected over the area of the park rented for the wedding and reception.  A sizeable contribution had also been made to the Parks and Recreation department, as well as the Brooklyn PD, and the local food pantries.  Steve and Bucky knew they were inconveniencing the residents of Brooklyn with their wedding blowout, and they wanted everyone to know they appreciated everyone’s patience.  A huge block party was planned after the honeymoon as a thank you to the borough.

The reception itself was well attended, well stocked, well fueled, and well met.  Toasts and roasts continued on for what seemed like hours, each more heartfelt and teasing than the last.  As Steve’s best man, Sam Wilson was one of the last to speak, and his speech brought tears, laughter, and quite a few “awwwws” to the festivities.  The speech shared by Bucky’s best persons, his sister’s descendants, was equally emotional, but for vastly different reasons.

Finally, the speeches were over, the cake had been cut and shared, and it was time for the couple’s first dance.

Bucky stood there in the middle of the dance floor, decked out in his wedding finery as everyone’s eyes were on him.  He was braced, prepared for the shuffle and slide that had always typified dancing with Steve.  He didn’t care so long as he got to hold him in his arms, breathe in his scent, and tell him he loved him for the rest of time.

So when the orchestra started with a peppy introduction, and Tony Stark himself grabbed hold of the microphone to sing, Bucky wasn’t quite sure what to expect.

When Steve Rogers started to tap dance his way across the parquet floor in time to the beat, spinning in place before he dropped to one knee with his hand outstretched to Bucky, Bucky was predictably shocked.

And when Steve gathered him into his arms to lead him in a quick step to _I Won’t Dance (Don’t Ask Me!)_ , Bucky was as surprised and delighted as anyone there that night.

And when the rest of the Avengers, Becca’s gang, and even Sharon Carter got up to join Stark on the refrain, there were tears of joy streaming down Bucky’s face.

And when Steve was there to kiss them away as he led them into a dramatic dip, his laughter was infectious and delicious.

“I don’t gotta teach you to dance!” Bucky cried happily as Steve brought them both back up to finish out the dance.

“Nah.  Because I finally found the right partner,” Steve agreed, and let the music play on as he stopped and kissed Bucky thoroughly, right there on the dance floor.

_Fini._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would love to know what you think! Comments and kudos gratefully accepted!
> 
> And please help get the word out - reblog [this post](http://debwalsh.tumblr.com/post/175460504737/fic-by-debwalsh) on Tumblr!

**Author's Note:**

> I'll start posting chapters - 6 in all - the afternoon of 1Jul18, with the final chapter posted on 2Jul18. As always, comments are most welcome!


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